


Yellow Roses

by Mithen



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Wayne meets a charming young florist, and Batman finds himself dealing with a new vigilante in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yellow Roses

Bruce Wayne was late.  He glanced at his watch as he was forced to stop at another light.  Sheila was going to be furious.  And he could hardly explain that he was late because the DNA tests he was running on some tell-tale hair samples had taken longer than expected.  He drummed fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.  Sheila Simmons was a pleasant woman--and perhaps more importantly, her father was one of the few honest policemen in Gotham.  His reputation had garnered him a recent spate of death threats.  Getting into the Simmons house would give Bruce a chance to make sure he knew the layout, as well as a potential opportunity to place some inconspicuous listening devices.

Bruce hesitated as he spotted a florist shop out of the corner of his eye, then hastily pulled into the tiny lot.  He was going to lose more time this way, but flowers made up for a lot.  It was probably worth the risk. 

A small bell jingled as he entered the store, and a petite woman with short-cropped black hair bustled around a corner, her arms full of carnations and baby's breath.  "Can I help you?"

Bruce grinned and leaned on the counter.  "I'm late for a date and need something to apologize with.  Any suggestions?"

The woman--nearly a girl, really--put her armful of flowers on the counter.  "Orchids are always safe," she said thoughtfully.

Bruce shook his head.  "Not her style.  She's more direct.  Not so ostentatious."

The woman's blue eyes sparked humor at his dismissive tone.  "Not many people are willing to diss orchids like that."

Bruce shrugged.  "They're flashy.  Gaudy.  I would prefer to give her something simple and beautiful."

The florist smiled.  "Might I suggest a single calla lily, then?  It's an elegant choice."

"I always go for the elegant choice," Bruce said cheerfully.  He watched the woman as she briskly and efficiently cut a single lily for him, wrapping its stem tenderly.  Her hands were surprisingly strong and calloused for a florist.  She smiled again as she handed the flower to him, and Bruce felt pulled by something in those sapphire eyes, some sadness running underneath, some strength he couldn't put his finger on.

He shook his head as he left the store.  Distracted by a florist, what next, he wondered wryly.

**: : :**

Batman moved across a rooftop, avoiding the pools of moonlight.  He had gotten a lead on the people threatening Officer Simmons' life.  Maroni's boys, of course.  He edged cautiously to a dusty skylight to look at the men gathered below, discussing a potential hit on the man.  Bruce felt his blood boil as they discussed Simmons as if he were a bug who needed wiping out.  Simmons was a good cop.  He was a good man.

The kind of man who would distract a shaking and shell-shocked eight-year old boy by talking about his little daughter, giving the orphan something to focus on to make the terror back off for just a little while.

A good man.

Batman whirled at a sound from the shadows.  In a moment, he had a figure up against a wall.  Another moment, and he was holding one wrenched arm and struggling to keep a grip on a tiny figure.  "Who are you?" he rasped.

The figure threw back its--her--head.  Blond hair shone in the moonlight.  "Back off," a voice snarled at him.  "I don't want to fight you.  I'm here to help Simmons."

Batman stepped back carefully, still in a ready stance.  The woman was as well.  A good stance, actually.  "Who are you?" he repeated.

"Who are you?"

"I don't need to tell you that."

A glint of a smile.  "Likewise." 

Batman eyed her carefully.  Leather jacket over what looked like light chest armor, and--his eyes stopped in disbelief at her legs.  "Why are you wearing fishnet stockings?"

A hand flicked by his ear, a deliberately glancing blow that could have landed harder.  "It distracts." 

Batman had to concede the point.

"You shouldn't be here," he felt it necessary to point out, although he suspected the woman didn't care.  "It's dangerous."

"Sometimes things are too important to avoid risk."  The woman moved past him to look down the skylight.  "Perhaps you inspired me."

"I sincerely hope not."

The conversation might have continued, but there was another movement on the roof.  This time it was one of Maroni's thugs, up for a security check.  He took in the two figures and his eyes widened.  Then he charged forward with a growl.  Batman dodged him--and the man promptly fell through the skylight.  Shouts of alarm rang out below.  Batman snapped a grapple and launched himself downward.  As he did, he felt strong arms clasp him.  "I'm hitching a ride, handsome," purred the woman's voice.

The fight was intense and sharp.  Several times Batman deflected knives aimed at the woman away from her.

On the other hand, he was forced to admit that she made several men drop their guns before shots could ring out in his direction.

The little he could see of her through the melee resembled a tiny dervish of motion.  Men fell all around her.

Impressive.

As he snapped restraints on the last of them he saw the woman slipping out of the warehouse into the alley. 

She whirled on him as he came close, the shadows from a fire escape falling across her face, hiding the eyes below strong dark eyebrows.  "Somehow I doubt you've come to say thank you."

Batman tilted his head thoughtfully.  "Thank you."

She blinked into the silence between them.  "I wasn't joking," she said hesitantly.  "About you inspiring people."

"I can tell from everything about you that nothing I can say will stop you if you want to continue.  We seem to be alike that way."  Batman held out his hand.  "Just, please...be careful."  She took his hand briefly, her grip strong in his.  "I don't know what to call you," he said.

She stepped back into the shadows.  "Call me Black Canary."

A nod, and he was gone.

**: : :**

Sherwood Florist was dark and quiet in the early morning hush.  Dinah Lance was deftly arranging a bowl of lilies.  The exhaustion in her movements was almost impossible to detect.

A rustle of motion behind her.  She swung around with a gasp to find a dark figure looming incongruously between the carnations.  The bowl slipped from her hands, but she caught it again before it could hit the ground.

"I thought you'd like to know," Batman begin, then stopped as if choosing his words carefully.  "The people threatening Alton Simmons.  They were caught last night."  When the woman didn't respond, he went on.  "His daughter is a childhood friend of yours.  He was...a friend of your father's.  You're on record as requesting the Gotham police department to up their security detail on him."

"They refused," she said bitterly, setting the bowl down on the counter with a thump.  She reached up and lightly touched a faded photograph on the wall behind the register:  two men in uniform, two small girls in their arms.  "He deserves better."

"He'll be safe," rasped the vigilante.  "People are looking out for him."  Another pause.  "Good people."

Dinah looked over her shoulder at him, a smile curving her mouth very slightly.  "I'm glad.  It was...kind of you to take the time to reassure me of this personally."

The figure cleared his throat.  "To be honest, I was hoping you might have a certain variety of rose.  It's not incredibly common, but I thought I might find it here."  The florist raised a dark eyebrow.  "It's called 'Canary Bird.'"

A long silence in which the woman's smile deepened and became slightly wry.  "It just so happens I have some, as a matter of fact."  She moved into the back of the story and came out with a few stems of a simple, light-yellow rose.  She began to trim them.  "It's one of the earliest-blooming varieties, you know."

Batman inclined his head.  "So I had heard." 

She handed him the completed bouquet.  "They're on the house," she said before he could open his mouth.  "A thank you for helping--Simmons."

He nodded, then broke off one of the golden blooms, reached out and put in her dark hair, behind her ear.  "For you."

As he opened the window and stepped out, he looked back once.  The woman had taken the flower out of her hair and was holding it to her face, smiling slightly.


End file.
